Her voice was steady and cool, and when she hung up, she felt nothing but satisfaction. Now if only she could stay this calm and clear when she talked to Silas.
SILAS WAS OUTSIDE THE CABIN chopping wood when Eli and Michael rode up on their bikes.
“Afternoon, gentlemen.” He swung the axe up and brought it down with a satisfying thunk, and the stubborn block of alder finally split in half.
“You want some lemonade?” They came frequently to talk to him, and Silas always listened, never judging or lecturing them about the gossip they innocently relayed. He filed away snippets that often helped him understand more fully when someone came to him for help.
He brought out three glasses, the bottle of lemonade and a container of oatmeal cookies a grandmother had traded for his arthritis tonic and set it all on the chopping block.
The boys were thirsty, and he refilled their glasses twice. They were making inroads on the cookies when Michael announced, “Dr. Jordan’s husband came to visit her today.”
Eli nodded and swallowed. “Yeah, Uncle Silas. He’s not nice like Dr. Jordan is. He swore at us, he called us little bastard half-breeds.”
Silas was unprepared for the onslaught of emotion those simple statements caused, on all sorts of levels. He waited a heartbeat, struggling to stay neutral. Casually, he said, “He obviously doesn’t know that you’re Nuu-chah-nulth warriors.”
“Right.” Eli crammed in another cookie and washed it down. His voice took on a confidential note. “And anyhow, he’s a junkie, that’s what Mom said.”
“Yeah.” Michael nodded vigorously. “Junkies do drugs, we aren’t ever gonna do drugs, right, Eli? Cause they make you stupid, that’s what our teacher says.”
“She’s right about that.” Silas felt the muscles in his stomach tighten. “And who was Christina saying that to, about the man being a junkie?”
“To Doctor Jordan,” Eli said. “We were under the window. When he swore at us, we followed him to Doctor Jordan’s place and hid, because maybe he was going to hurt Doctor Jordan and we’d have to help, right? He was real mean to her, he kept saying they were still married and she should give him medicine because he was sick, and money to get divorced.”
Silas felt sick. “That was thoughtful and brave of you, to watch out for her.”
Eli beamed. “Yeah, but we didn’t have to help her because Mom came then, she asked Doctor Jordan if she was okay, and if she should get you.”
Silas swallowed. “And what did the doctor say?”
“She hollered no, no, not to get you, that she was okay,” Michael reported. “And then she sent the man to Mabel’s to wait for her so she could give him money.”
“But he didn’t go there, not right away,” Eli said. “We followed him. He walked all around town and he talked to those two guys who live in Johnny Swann’s old house. They were sitting out on the porch drinking beer.”
Like attracts like, Silas thought. The men were bootleggers, and probably also dealt drugs, although he had no proof of that.
“They gave him money for something,” Michael said.
Silas puzzled over that one. What would a junkie be selling? Wouldn’t he more likely be buying?
Eli bobbed his head. “Yeah, and then he went to Mabel’s and after a while Doctor Jordan went there too, and then they had a fight outside Mabel’s, right, Michael? And he threw ripped-up paper in her face, and then Big Rupert Joe, you know Big Rupert Joe, eh, Uncle Silas? Billy’s father? Well, he stood up for her and he got Charlie to turn the boat back and then he took the man’s arm and made him run down to the wharf, and Rupert boosted him over the side like this.” Eli stood up and demonstrated.
Jordan, why didn’t you tell me? “So the man’s gone?”
“Yeah, he’s gone back to the mainland.” The two sweaty boys nodded in unison. “And Doctor Jordan went back to her house and now she’s at the clinic with Mom.”
When the lemonade and cookies were gone, Eli and Michael thanked Silas and took off down the trail on their bikes.
He sat on the chopping block for a long time, not hearing the staccato drumming of the scarlet woodpecker in the old tree or the monotonous rain warning the birds were making. He was listening to Jordan’s voice inside his head. It wasn’t difficult to recall every single thing she’d ever said about her marriage, her words were branded on his brain.
Garry, she’d said his name was Garry. That he’d been in an accident. That he was a weak man. She’d never once mentioned drugs, and she’d referred to him as her ex-husband several times. Silas remembered that clearly. She hadn’t been divorced for long enough, she’d said. It had indicated that she was free, just as he was, and he’d felt relieved.
So she’d outright lied about that, if the little boys had their story straight. And if Garry was a junkie, Christina would recognize that right away. He’d wanted money, did that mean that Jordan was supporting him?
She’d set herself apart from the rest of them at the healing circle by not revealing her experience with despair. And she’d lied to him.
The only condition he’d set was that they be honest with each other.
Anger and a sense of betrayal churned in his gut, along with regret and a fierce longing for something he was afraid to name.
He’d begun to care for her far more deeply than he wanted to admit, even to himself.
Half-breed, her husband had called Eli and Michael. It was what his schoolmates had called Silas, in that fancy private academy his father had forced him to attend.
Ironically, it was also what some of the kids here in Ahousaht had also called him, when he held himself apart during the long, painful summers he spent here as a boy. It was implicit in the words his father had thrown at him in that final, awful rage when Silas told Angus he was moving to Ahousaht.
“I’ve given you every advantage,” Angus Keefer had said in that cold, quiet voice. “You could have a brilliant academic career, you could have all this—” Angus had swept an arm around his luxuriously appointed study “—and more. You have the brains, the education, the opportunity. But I can see that you don’t have what it takes to overcome your heritage. You want to take the lazy route and go native, go ahead, Silas. Just remember that if you do, you’re no longer my son.”
Until now, Silas had truly believed he’d grown beyond the old feelings of exclusion and rejection. He’d believed himself capable of handling any emotional challenge with calm and rationality.
The pain in his gut said otherwise.
Grandmother, help me.
He waited, but this time Sandrine didn’t respond.
He needed to get away, but he’d made a commitment to Patwin. He couldn’t walk away and leave his brother. But he could take him along, if only Patwin would agree to come.
Silas went into the cabin and stuffed a bare few essentials into a pack, and then he closed the door behind himself and headed into town.
His mother’s house smelled as it always did, of cooking and herbs and clean laundry. Rose Marie was out, and there was no answer when Silas called for Patwin, but he had a nagging sense that his brother was there. Silas knocked on Patwin’s bedroom door, and when there was no answer, he opened it.
Patwin was sprawled across the bed. He tried to raise his head, but his neck was still too stiff. Instead, he gave Silas a loopy grin and said something, but his words were garbled and slurred.
Silas was across the room in two strides, fear a claw that squeezed at his heart. He took Patwin by the shoulders and dragged him to a sitting position. He sniffed Patwin’s breath. Not alcohol, so that meant—
“What did you take?” He shook his brother hard, not caring that it would hurt his bruised throat. His voice rose. “You stupid idiot, what the hell did you take?”
Patwin laughed drunkenly, and swearing, Silas let him flop back on the bed.
Frantically, Silas searched the bedside table, the dresser drawers.
Nothing. He spotted Patwin’s jacket, slung over a chair,
and he stuck a hand in the pocket, pulling out packaged disposable syringes and two small vials of morphine.
Rage filled Silas as he put together what Michael and Eli had said about the transaction at Johnny Swann’s. Garry hadn’t been buying, he’d been selling. And what he’d sold had ended up in Patwin’s veins.
CHAPTER TWENTY
THE MORPHINE MUST HAVE COME from Jordan. Had she given it to her husband as a bribe, to get him to leave?
However it had gone down, the end result was that Patwin had gotten hold of it. Silas took the vials into the bathroom, broke them open and flushed them. He broke the syringes into pieces and buried them in the garbage. He went back into Patwin’s room and threw a few things into a backpack he found in the closet. Wrestling his brother into his jacket, he hauled him to his feet.
“You and I are going for a long walk,” he said through gritted teeth. He looped one of Patwin’s arms around his shoulders, stopping on his way out long enough to scribble a note for his mother: Gone into the bush with Patwin. Be back when we get back.
SHIVERING IN THE SUDDEN CHILL of the setting sun, Jordan hurried along the path to Silas’s cabin. The afternoon had been so busy she hadn’t realized the weather was changing. The evening sky was ominously overcast, and the stiff breeze off the ocean was colder than usual.
After the call to the RCMP, she hadn’t had time to think about anything except work. There’d been a baby with severe croup, an old, diabetic man with a seriously infected leg, an entire family with gastroenteritis, which Jordan suspected was from tainted meat, and then, worst of all, an eleven-year-old girl with a vaginal infection. Jordan suspected she was sexually abused. When Christina had called in the social worker, the girl was taken into custody, pending an investigation.
Now she was weary, and if it hadn’t been for Christina, she’d also have been famished. The nurse had made her sit down and eat an egg sandwich.
Jordan hurried through the trees, trying to figure out what to say to Silas, how to explain what had occurred. The RCMP had called her back to say that Garry was in custody in Tofino. A search of his bag had produced her prescription pads and some of the drugs she was missing. He’d appear before a magistrate tomorrow morning.
The sound of bike tires behind her made her turn, and when Eli and Michael reached her, she smiled at them.
“Hi, Doctor Jordan.” They pulled up on either side of her, pedaling so slow she marveled at their ability to balance the bikes.
“Hey, boys. Where are you off to?” Crazy question. As far as she knew the path led to only one destination.
“To Silas’s house,” Eli said. “He asked us to keep an eye on his place for him, so we’re going to make sure the windows are all shut because there’s a storm coming in.”
Jordan’s heart sank and she slowed and then stopped. “Where’s Silas gone?”
Michael dismounted to stand beside her. “Him and Patwin went into the bush. Patwin was real sleepy, but Silas made him walk, anyway.”
Jordan frowned. That didn’t make sense. “When did they go?” Surely Silas would have said something this morning, if he’d been planning a trip.
Michael said, “A couple hours ago, right, Eli.”
“Yeah. A couple hours now.”
That could mean anything, of course, since the kids had no sense of time, which made her next question idiotic. But she asked it, anyway. “Did he say when they’d be back?”
“Nope.” Eli shook his head. “They took sleeping bags, though. So maybe a couple days. Maybe even a week, eh, Michael?”
“Yeah, prob’ly a week. My dad stays a week when he goes into the bush.”
“Okay.” So anywhere from a day to a month. Puzzled, she turned around and started to head back on the path, her heart heavy and her feet dragging. “I was going to see Silas, but if he’s not there I’ll head home. Thanks, guys.”
“You want us to ride back to town with you?” Michael said. “We can still get to Silas’s after, it won’t be dark for a while.”
“No, no. I’m fine on my own, I’m not scared.” Not of wild animals, not tonight.
“Yeah, that bad man who scared you is gone, right, Doctor Jordan?”
She wasn’t paying attention. She was thinking of Silas, and why he’d left her without a word. “What bad—oh, Garry. Yes, he’s gone.” She kept forgetting that not much went on without these two knowing about it.
“Yeah, we saw Billy’s father running with him down to catch the boat.” They glanced at each other and snickered. “Billy’s father’s really strong, eh? He boosted him on board good, didn’t he, Doctor Jordan?”
“He sure did.”
They exchanged telling glances. “That man, he’s your husband, right, Doctor Jordan?”
“Yeah. But not for long.”
“And he’s a junkie, right?”
Jordan stopped walking and faced them. She was careful to keep her tone curious and conversational. “Now where did you hear that?”
“Eli’s mom said it. When she was talking to you, right, Eli?”
“But how did you overhear what Christina said? We were inside my house.”
They looked at each other and then Eli said, “We hid outside your house, because that man called us half-breeds and we didn’t like him and we didn’t want him to hurt you.”
Jordan was beginning to suspect what might have happened with Silas, and it made her feel sick to her stomach. “That was thoughtful of you. Did you guys happen to tell Silas what Garry and I were saying?”
“Yeah. We told him your husband was a junkie, and he wanted money and stuff from you. We told him you were scared, but then Eli’s mom came and that guy left.”
“Um-hm.” If they were listening at her window, Silas knew everything. He knew about Garry and the drugs. And that she’d been less than honest with him. But why wouldn’t he give her a chance to explain?
She’d planned to tell him that she’d skipped the sordid details of her life because she wanted him only to know the best parts of her. She’d wanted him to see her for herself, not in the shadow of Garry and drugs and bad decisions. And she’d been afraid.
She’d learned early in life to smile and be agreeable even when she was miserable, because she was afraid that if anybody knew her real feelings, they wouldn’t like her. And, as a child, that meant she’d be moved to another foster home. Helen had helped her to identify and release some of what she was feeling, but old habits died hard. She’d been less than open with Silas.
Right now Jordan felt like beating the ground with her fists. Instead, she managed a smile and a jaunty wave to the two culprits who’d just ruined her love life. It wasn’t their fault.
“Bye, guys. See you later.”
“Bye, Doctor Jordan.” They sped off, and Jordan dragged herself back to her apartment.
Too tired and sick at heart to eat, when she went to bed she couldn’t sleep. Around eleven, she swallowed a sleeping pill, and when her cell rang at midnight, she could barely drag herself out of her drugged sleep.
At first, she assumed it must be Garry. But she’d had the number changed, and the only people she’d given it to were Silas, her lawyer, Helen—and her brother. Eagerly she punched the talk button, and his familiar, dear voice spilled across the miles and into her heart.
“Hey, squirt, I bet I woke you up, sorry about that. I thought I’d just let it ring when your answering service didn’t kick in.”
She’d forgotten to activate it, and now she was glad she hadn’t. Thank God she’d left her new number on his machine.
“You can wake me up any old time you like.” Jordan sat up and shoved both pillows behind her. “How are you, Toby?” Shivering, she wrapped the quilt around her shoulders. She could hear rain beating down on the roof, and the air from the open window was damp and chilly.
“A little drunk at the moment, I’m celebrating because I finally finished that damned yacht. Got paid, too, so I blew some on a bottle of really good wine. Wish you were her
e to share it with me, kid.”
“God, how I wish I was.” Exhausted and empty and terribly lonely, her eyes filled with tears. She did her best to keep her voice steady. “So what are you going to do now?”
“Well, that’s why I’m calling. I thought, if it wouldn’t disrupt your life too much, I might mosey on over there and visit you for a while.”
“Oh, Toby, yes, please! I’d love it if you came and stayed with me. When?”
“I’ll fly to Vancouver tomorrow, and then see if I can catch a flight over to Tofino. How do I get from there to Flores Island?”
“There’s a water taxi, but it only runs a couple times a day. The fastest way is the floatplane, but it’s more expensive.”
“Money’s no object. And now that I’m filthy rich, what can I bring you from the big city?”
That was easy. “Häagen-Dazs, please. Almond-pecan. A huge tub of it—I can’t get it here.” And she’d never needed it more than she had tonight.
“Done. See you tomorrow, squirt. With ice cream in hand.”
She hung up, feeling a little easier just knowing her brother was coming.
She worried over sleeping arrangements. The rump-sprung sofa in the living room wasn’t inviting. Maybe Toby could use one of the treatment rooms while he was here. She’d check with Christina in the morning.
Then, inevitably, painfully, her thoughts turned to Silas. Where was he sleeping tonight? The rain was hammering on the roof, steady and unrelenting. It couldn’t be very comfortable in a tent on a night like this.
Maybe he’d come back tomorrow, and she could talk to him. Even if he didn’t understand, even if he didn’t want to go on with their relationship—even if he was furious with her—at least she’d have the satisfaction of explaining herself.
Why was it so important to her? She hadn’t really known him that long. Yes, the sex was amazing, he made her feel as if she’d never really known passion before. But that was only one part of the equation. There was a maturity, a depth of character in Silas she hadn’t found in other men. He was funny, playful and quirky. Kind, he was incredibly kind. Thoughtful. Puzzling—there were aspects to his healing practice she didn’t begin to understand. But she loved being with him, she loved talking to him, she loved— Stillness came over her. My God.
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